Zoinks! Scooby Doo and the gang meet Nightwing!
by Brendan Storm
Summary: Nightwing meets the Scooby crew and helps them solve a mystery a la the great Scooby Doo meets ... mysteries.


Zoinks! Scooby Doo and the gang meet Nightwing!  
  
A story by Brendan Storm (blame the coffee)  
  
Rating PG (cause you never know with those Coalition cats)  
  
Disclaimer: Scooby Doo is wholly owned by the suits at Cartoon Network cause they're owned by Hanna Barbera and that's owned by AOL Time Warner, duh, who isn't. I think I personally am owned by AOL Time Warner. Consequently Nightwing, Sgt Amy and Officer Grayson are all trademarked characters owned by DC comics which is also owned by AOL Time Warner. Hmmm, scary thing is that since both are owned by the same corp, it's entirely possible the lurker who works for them could use this as a crossover idea in the comics, which they have a right to do because they own the respective crossoverees. I mean with the number of hits we've had, I'm waiting to see Tim get turned into a girl (to not blatantly steal) since they had superboy in the shower scene last week. If that happens I have no rights to the story idea, but it would be a cute thing to have an "inspired by" line in the giant sized TPB crossover with the foil cover. A mention by the editors would be cool too for the Bludhaven group, but you know that would be like an endorsement to monkey with their trademarks, and after seeing what they did to the Potter fans, I wouldn't recommend any lawyers looking in our direction. I only do this cause I'm having fun. Don't sue me, see above I already am a trademarked and owned character of your company myself.  
  
Archiving: You kin keep it if you wanna, but ya gotta tell me so's I can laugh at ya.  
  
Feedback: I like the feedback. I get pleasure from making you type, and possibly get carpal tunnel. If you don't want to hurt your wrists, then Send coffee, or caffienated water from thinkgeek.com  
  
The green van was weaving a little and had crossed the white line four times since hitting the city limits of Bludhaven. Officer Dick Grayson checked the reading on the radar gun mounted in the squad car.  
  
"Stoner?"  
  
"They're going 45 in a 55 zone and weaving. The side of the van reads "Mystery Machine" and has paisleys on it. If I were a bookie I wouldn't let you bet on it, rookie." Sgt. Amy Rohrbach grinned. "Not usually our bag, but this will be good for you." She flipped on the rollers and followed the pea green van until it pulled over.  
  
Dick jumped out of the squad car and flipped on his flashlight. He immediately noticed mud on the flaps and dirt marks on the undercarriage. Either they'd just been off-roading or the crops were out in the boonies this season. He inwardly winced at the flowers in orange around the words "Mystery Machine." Who named cars anymore, thought Dick?  
  
"License and registration, please."  
  
"Sorry officer, were we doing anything wrong?" Dick immediately started working on his report in his mind. Driver six foot, blond blue eyes, white polo and orange scarf, (is that a dickey?) in his early twenties late teens, handed the documents to him.  
  
"You know how fast you were going?"  
  
"We were under the speed limit."  
  
"Yes, by about twenty miles, we also tend to use the whole lane and not the shoulder, here in Bludhaven." Dick casually sniffed for the tell tale scent of marijuana. He wrinkled his nose at the scent that wafted out of the back of the van. It wasn't pot, but wet dog.  
  
"Sorry about that officer."  
  
"Jinkies," said a shorter female, brunette, chastity glasses, aprox 5'5" orange turtleneck. "We've been driving all day, Fred. We should pull over and get some sleep."  
  
"You're right, Velma. What do you think, Daphne?" Fred asked. Dick noticed the passenger side occupied by a second female, redhead between 5'8 and 5'10" wearing a purple mini dress and lavender tights that went all the way up her. 'Woah there Grayson,' he thought. 'You already have a redhead at home.'  
  
"Velma's right. We should get a place to rest. We can solve this mystery in the morning."  
  
"Zoinks, yeah. I'm Starvin." Dazed and confused, green shirt, corduroy, bushy brown hair, slouched and skinny, 6'2" or possibly 6'3". If there actually were a stoner in this troop of teens, he'd be the one.  
  
"Reah, Rarvin." Dick's eyes widened just a moment before he could keep his patrol cop cool. He checked that the proper documents were there and walked stiffly back to the squad car.  
  
"What happened, Rookie? You look a little spooked," Amy asked.  
  
"Spooked, yeah. Nice bunch of kids. They've been driving for hours, a little tired, and hungry. Talking Dog."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Yeah, horrible accent, but the dog talks"  
  
"This is like the time when you saw the talking rabbit and took a three day weekend?"  
  
"Never going to live that down am I?"  
  
"Nope. Let's see, Fred Blake, mmmhmmm, registered to a Mystery Inc. out of Florida."  
  
"Been in the swamp recently, too. The mud flaps are covered."  
  
"Good eye, rookie."  
  
'Trained by the best, mere mortal,' he thought back with a smirk.  
  
"No priors, give em a warning and the directions to the local econolodge and send em on their way."  
  
"Will do, boss." Dick stepped out and walked up to the driver's side door. "Here you go, sir. You drive more carefully. I see you on the shoulder again, you get a ticket."  
  
"Thanks officer, we'll be more careful."  
  
"If you're looking for a place to sleep, there is a motel about a block from here that's still got some vacancies. Just take a left on Brokaw Avenue. You can get some rest there." 'And I can keep an eye on you,' he thought.  
  
"Thanks, again!" they all said.  
  
"Reah! Ranks." Said the dog. Dick looked right at it.  
  
"Aww, Scooby," said Velma as she rubbed the Great Dane's head. It did talk.  
  
"Ok, well, you kids be safe." Dick said and walked back to the car. What kind of mystery would bring that bunch so far from home?  
  
*** *** ***  
  
"Got it all here, hunk wonder." Oracle said after the day shift had ended and his night shift was about to start. "Even got their own website. Mystery Inc featuring Scooby-Doo the talking and mystery solving dog. Who'd have thought?"  
  
"Well Superman has Krypto. Why shouldn't there be dog mascots for crime fighters?"  
  
"Right like He'd have a canine sidekick."  
  
"Bruce may have had a basset hound named Ace once in his life. Don't know when but Alfred mentioned him once. Think about it. Ace the Bathound? It has a nice ring to it." The two laughed.  
  
"Sure, him with a pet," Oracle said between giggles. Dick loved her giggle.  
  
"Come," Dick said in his best imitation of his mentor. "Sit, Stay. Who's a good widdle doggy? Who's daddy's widdle puppy."  
  
"Stop, stop!" She laughed. "The walls have ears."  
  
"And no sense of humor," cut in the owner of the voice. "Nightwing, downtown in ten." Batman signed off as quickly as he had broken in. Dick swore, and then realized that his father had meant downtown Bludhaven. His city.  
  
Nine minutes and forty five seconds later Nightwing alighted atop a stone chimney in the middle of downtown Bludhaven. There was a cool breeze and happily his hair wasn't flying around wildly, as if drawn by a poor artist. 'There was another reason to wear a mask like Bruce's,' thought Dick. 'Covers up five months of bad hair days.'  
  
"Nightwing." The voice of Batman was off by just a little. Dick remembered a few months back when Bruce had experimented with a rubber suit. It was just that tiny bit of "off step" in his voice that Dick could tell something was bothering him.  
  
"Batman?"  
  
"Your impression is good." The jaw was firm. There was no emotion showing. "Useful talent."  
  
"Thanks, high praise."  
  
"My dog was named Ace, and it was a lab."  
  
"No kidding?"  
  
He inclined his head a fraction of an inch. "About this,"  
  
"Got it, not a word about your..."  
  
"No," Batman interrupted. "The talking dog." Batman shifted slightly. 'This is seriously bugging him,' Dick thought. "Stay away from telepathic animals. It's..."  
  
"Silly?" Dick anticipated.  
  
"Undignified." He shrugged and fired off a line. Dick scratched his head and watched his mentor swing away. Still puzzled at that comment, he shot out a line of his own in the direction of the motel he'd directed the kids to.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
"That was like, close." Shaggy said from the back of the van.  
  
"Reah, Rose," chimed in Scooby.  
  
"He was kind of cute, wasn't he Velma?" said Daphne.  
  
"Good grief, you guys. We're here for a mystery." Velma said, wiping her glasses on her sweater.  
  
"That's right Gang. We have to be at the carnival in the morning. Let's try to get some rest," said Fred.  
  
"Oh no you don't, I'm starving, we gotta get some food," said Shaggy. Scooby's tail thumped the side of the van loudly.  
  
"All right you two. There's a Belly Burger across the street from the motel. But don't get lost, this is a dangerous city."  
  
"Rangerous, Rulp."  
  
"Come on, Scoob, I'll get you onion rings."  
  
"Ruh uh."  
  
"Onion Rings topped with Scooby snacks?"  
  
"Rooby Racks, Ro Roy!"  
  
"I thought so." Shaggy smiled and opened the van door. Fred and Daphne also got out to check in. Velma stayed with the van. She had a strange feeling she was being watched.  
  
Shaggy and Scooby carefully crossed the street to the fast food restaurant. Shaggy also had a strange feeling, like a prickling on the back of his neck. He scanned the rooftops and shrugged before entering the Belly Burger and ordering Buster size combos for himself and the dog. 


End file.
